Revelation
by Darkover
Summary: Ever wonder why Giles had such trouble finding a job? Revelations ensue.


Title: "Revelation"  
  
Author: Darkover  
  
Disclaimer: As far as I know, all the characters of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are owned by Joss Whedon, and no infringement of copyright is intended or should be inferred. I don't own them—if I did, Buffy and Giles would have been together long ago. I am a Buffy-Giles shipper, and proud of it! Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so please don't sue.  
  
Summary: Ever wonder why Giles had so much trouble finding a job? Revelations ensue.  
  
Spoilers: Except for a reference to remarks made in "Helpless," nothing specific. This story is set in season four after Buffy became involved with Riley Finn and he learned she is the Slayer, but before Dawn joined the show. Asterisks are used to emphasize words; [brackets] are used to indicate unvoiced thoughts.  
  
Rating: PG, for a couple of bad words—although they're only bad if you're British—and some talk about sex.  
  
Reviews and feedback: Would be greatly appreciated!  
  
"Buffy." Giles' tone was welcoming, but slightly reserved, as he opened the door of his apartment to allow her entry.  
"Morning, Giles," the Slayer said brightly as she entered. She seemed unusually upbeat today, even for Buffy. [She must have just finished having sex with her boy-toy,] Giles thought bitterly, then was ashamed of himself. Just because his own life had turned stagnant was no reason why Buffy should not enjoy hers.  
"You seem remarkably happy today," he told her.  
"Yup," she said cheerily. "Just call me Perky Buffy."  
Giles grunted and sat down on the sofa.  
Buffy surveyed him. "I can't say the same for you. I should call you Hibernation-Giles—you've got enough beard on you so that it looks as if you've been in a cave for the last month. Speaking of caves, do you ever get out of the house, Giles?"  
"Did you come here for a specific reason, Buffy, or just to torment me about my appearance?"  
"Whoa, you are Mr. Grumpy Bear today. Can't I show some concern for you?"  
This sparked anger in him that seemed out of proportion to her comment. "Why should you? You never have before." He pulled himself to his feet and stalked off to the kitchen, missing the astonished look on her face. "I'm having a drink."  
"A drink?" Buffy echoed in disbelief as she saw her Watcher take out the bottle of Scotch. "Giles, it's only ten-thirty in the morning."  
"Well, what do you care?" he demanded, aware of the angry petulance in his tone but unable to stop it. "Are you going to tell me now that it's the sort of thing that only someone old and gross' would do?"  
She was quiet for a long moment as he poured himself a drink. "Giles, I know that was a stupid remark on my part, all right? If I never apologized for it, I'm apologizing for it now. But just because I once said something stupid is no reason why you have to do something stupid. Put away the booze, okay?"  
For an instant, he was tempted to disregard her request and continue with the drink, but he recognized it for the act of childish defiance it represented. Besides, no matter how angry he was at her, he had never been able to deny his Slayer anything. Without a word, he poured the Scotch back into the bottle then replaced the bottle in the cabinet. Then, still not looking at her, he went back and resumed his seat on the sofa.  
"Better." Buffy came and sat next to him—uncomfortably, tantalizingly close. She was looking at him intently. "How long has this been going on?"  
"How long has what been going on?"  
"The drinking this early in the day. The lying around doing nothing. How long, Giles? And how long is it going to continue?"  
"Bloody hell, Buffy." Giles rose and began to pace around the room. "What I do is my own business. And if you ever took any notice of your old, has-been Watcher, you might have some idea of how long it's been going on."  
  
She stared at him. "Oh, so now it's my fault because I don't want to attend your little pity-party? Excuse me, Giles, for having a life."  
"I had a life, too, Buffy, until I met you." [You became my life. Which is why it's so hard to see that you don't want me any more.]  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
He stopped pacing and looked at her. "Buffy, do you suppose that I just sprang into existence on the day we met? Or that a job as librarian in a small public high school in California was the height of my professional ambitions? I took that job because it allowed me the cover necessary to interact and train with the teenage girl who was to be my Slayer." Pain flashed through him as he thought: [But now I don't believe you are my Slayer any longer.] Controlling the feeling, he took a deep breath. "Buffy, please understand, I don't regret spending those years here." [Especially since I spent them with you.] "That was both my duty and my privilege. But I am not a librarian, either by training or inclination. My background is in history and archeology, and my previous position was as curator of the British Museum. And now, I find that not only can I not get a job in my chosen field, but I cannot get any kind of a bloody job at all." He flung himself down into an overstuffed chair.  
She was still staring at him. "Why not?"  
He gave a harsh, slightly bitter laugh. "Why do you think? Whenever I apply for a position, as I applied for one at the Sunnydale Museum, prospective employers want to know why I suddenly gave up my position as curator at one of the greatest museums in the world to take an insignificant job outside of my field, and in another country. I can hardly tell them it was so that I could be in close enough proximity to train the one girl in all the world who defends it from vampires, so it is difficult to explain. Prospective employers tend to assume that there must be something wrong with me—I'm an alcoholic, perhaps, or that there was some sex scandal that was hushed up. One man even demanded to know if I had taken the job as librarian at an American high school just so I could get close to young girls." He stopped as suddenly as he had begun, breathing deeply, gazing at her. [There is only one girl—young woman now—to whom I want to get closer.]  
Buffy bounded off the sofa. "What jerk said that?" she yelled. "Tell me who he was, Giles, and I'll straighten him out!"  
"Buffy, it doesn't matter." He suddenly felt weary. "It's just—I can't go back, and I can't go forward, is what I'm trying to say." [So now I feel trapped, and I'm terrified, because I don't know what to do.]  
She stared down at him, chewing on her lower lip. Her troubled gaze made him uncomfortable. "I did this to you, didn't I? If you hadn't had to be my Watcher, you never would have had to come here."  
"Buffy, it's not like that." He rose and took her hand, looking down into her face. "I was proud to be your Watcher—"  
"What do you mean, was? Giles, you're still my Watcher."  
"Buffy, I'm not certain you need a Watcher any longer. You certainly don't need an old has-been like me."  
"Stop talking like that," she said, her eyes flashing with anger, her hand tightening on his until it was almost painful. "Giles, I know I've teased you about your age—and, um, things—before. But I didn't mean it—" She broke off, having the grace to look slightly ashamed when she saw the doubt in his expression. "Okay, maybe sometimes, in the early days, when I was a dumb kid and I was mad at you. But you, Rupert Giles, are the s—" Buffy caught herself suddenly. [Sexiest? Was I about to say sexiest?] "The smartest man I've ever known," she rushed on, wondering where the previous thought had come from. "Listen to your Slayer," she added sternly.  
Giles' lips quirked with amusement. "Buffy has spoken, eh?"  
"That's right." Still not releasing his hand, she led him back to the sofa. "We have to talk about this."  
There was a quick knock followed by the door opening—Giles never locked his door—and Riley entered. "Buffy," he said, smiling. "I figured I'd find you here. I thought we would—"  
She hardly glanced at him. "Not now, Riley. Giles and I were right in the middle of something."  
Riley looked at the couple on the sofa, especially at their joined hands. Giles reddened a little and started to pull his hand away, but his Slayer's hold only tightened; she followed his gaze to the younger man, whose smile was fading as he regarded them. Seeing the disapproval on Riley's face, a look of irritation crossed hers.  
"Riley, I said that I'm busy with Giles. I'll have to see you later."  
  
"Buffy, what's all this about? This guy's just an ex-librarian."  
Riley was normally a considerate young man, and he had not meant his last remark to be as insensitive as it sounded. But it was the wrong moment to say such a thing. Giles flushed and yanked his hand free, turning away from his Slayer as if ashamed. Buffy, furious, sprang to her feet.  
"Giles is my Watcher, Riley, and maybe someday when I have the time, I'll explain to you just how much that means." She glanced back at the Englishman, her face softening. "I guess I can forgive you for not understanding—I kind of forgot about it myself for awhile. But hey, Riley, I'm sorry—Giles has to come first with me right now."  
The young man's normally pleasant face hardened a little. "Buffy, I'm tired of this."  
She looked at him as if he were crazy. "Tired of what?"  
"Tired of you shutting me out. Exactly what's going on here?"  
"Buffy—" Giles was glancing from one to the other. He was not concerned about Riley, who in Giles' view was "being a jerk," as the children would say, but he did not want to cause any kind of trouble for his beloved Slayer. "Buffy, it's all right. You needn't stay if you don't wish to."  
She looked back down at him, smiling at him warmly, with obvious affection. "I do want to stay, Giles. For myself, as well as for you."  
Riley crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, that's enough."  
"Excuse me?" Buffy said hotly. Giles stood up.  
"I think I've been patient and understanding long enough, Buffy. It's bad enough that you carried a torch for Angel for so long—I'm not going to put up with your being infatuated with a man who's old enough to be your father."  
Giles closed his eyes briefly to hide the pain that flared up in him. He fully expected Buffy's next remark to be; "Giles? Don't be stupid, Riley—I could never feel that way about him. He's just my Watcher."  
What he actually heard her say was; "I love Giles."  
His eyes flew open.  
"I think I just realized that," his Slayer said, looking directly at him, rather than at the younger man who, until this moment, had been her boyfriend. "He was in my life before you were, Riley. He has always been there for me—not just training and guiding me, but supporting me, loving me, even when I thought I was in love with somebody else. He's my other half—Watcher to my Slayer. I've always loved him, even when sometimes I resented him. I—I think I just wasn't grown-up enough to realize that, until now." She reached out and took his hand. "I'm in love with you, Rupert Giles."  
The Watcher felt almost lightheaded with joy. "Buffy—"  
"I can't believe this." Riley's face was suffused with anger, and even some disgust. "He—he's an old man, Buffy."  
The Slayer looked at Riley, regarding him almost with pity. "No, he's not. He's a man—" [And you're just a boy,] she wanted to say, but she truly did not want to hurt Riley. He was not taking this well, but who would? She finished instead by saying, "He's the finest man I've ever known."  
Riley's hands tightened into fists, but now there was more pain in his face than anger. "But, Buffy—I thought—we meant something to each other." His face darkened as he added; "Are you going to throw what we have away for the sake of this—" Riley flashed Giles a look of hatred—"this old man?"  
Giles stiffened and he would have thrown the young prat out, but he felt his Slayer's hand on his arm, saw her beseeching expression; [Please, let me handle this.] Giles let his breath out and nodded. Buffy turned back to her former boyfriend.  
"Riley, that's enough. I'm not going to listen to you insult Giles any more. I know you're hurt. I'm sorry, but it's best that you understand right now. What we had together was sweet, and fun, and I thought it was love, but it wasn't. It was sex, and wanting to have a normal boyfriend after all the craziness with Angel. Remember when you first wanted to get involved with me, I tried to tell you that I wasn't ready, and you insisted that we could make it work? We didn't. I liked you a lot—I still do—but I'm not in love with you. The man I love—" She glanced back at Giles, a tender expression on her face—"was always here. I just had to grow up and see it. I'm sorry if this hurts you, Riley, but you have to accept it."  
"Fine," the young man said, with more bitterness than Buffy would have believed him capable. "But when you get tired of taking care of an old man, Buffy, don't think I'm going to welcome you back." He turned and left, slamming the door behind him.  
Giles took his Slayer's hand once more. "Buffy—are you sure...?"  
Her small, strong hand covered his. "Very sure, Giles."  
"It's just...he's right, you know, love. I am old enough to be your father."  
Her hand tightened on his. "But you're not my father, Rupert Giles. You're my Watcher. It seems to me that we've been everything to each other—teacher and student, mentor and pupil, confessor and penitent, wizard and warrior, warrior-queen and knight-consort, dear friends, soul mates—and yeah, sometimes even father and daughter, or brother and sister. It seems to me, Giles, that the only words for all these things put together are Watcher and Slayer."  
Giles blinked and smiled. "Good lord. You've been doing a great deal of reading at university, haven't you?"  
Buffy actually blushed a little. "Yeah, well, I'm taking a couple of courses right now that I kind of drew on, one in medieval history, one in romantic literature, but that's not the point. I meant everything I said." She paused as a momentary doubt assailed her; worried, she looked up into his face. "Giles—do you feel the same? About me? I mean, I love you, but are you in love with me?"  
"Am I—" The Watcher was momentarily speechless. "Buffy, I have loved you for years."  
"Yeah. But like a daughter." Her face was deeply troubled now, and he could feel her begin to withdraw from him.  
"Never mind what that pillock Travers said," he told her, his tone harsher than he had intended. "You just told me that I am not your father. Well, let me remind you that you are not my daughter, Buffy. As you so eloquently put it a moment ago, it is but one element in our relationship as Watcher and Slayer, a relationship which, as you now realize, is a deep, rich, and complicated one."  
"Yeah, but if you don't love me as a father, why didn't you mention it at the time? I didn't hear you contradicting Travers when he said that."  
  
He smiled faintly. "Isn't that obvious? The Council had just fired me because, thanks to Travers, they believed that I had a father's love' for you. If they believed that I was in love with you, as a man loves a woman, they would have forced me to leave you and return to England immediately. I would have been on a flight back to Britain the following day at the latest—and I am not exaggerating. The Council believes that detachment is a virtue, and that loving one's Slayer too deeply is a character flaw—it renders a Watcher incapable of objectivity." He paused, adding quietly; "Besides, Buffy, I was sure that you hated me then. You would not have wanted to hear such a thing, not at that moment." [I wasn't sure you ever would.]  
"Giles, I was hurt and confused, and I was just so angry—"  
"Of course. I understood." He looked down at her, his face serious, his eyes somehow both tender and intense as he told her; "But I want you to understand this, Buffy Summers: I have loved you from the moment I met you, and I have been in love with you for some time. So, do not try to tell me what I feel."  
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath that was almost a shudder. Giles was not accustomed to expressing strong emotion. Buffy squeezed his hands gently. He opened his eyes and added more softly, with great concern; "But Buffy, are you certain how you feel? You have been through so much, first with Angel, now with Riley—" The Watcher swallowed. "You mentioned all the reasons why your relationship with that young man wasn't working. Are you certain you're not just turning to me as a—a substitute of some kind?" [Because deep down you know that I love you so much, I would never turn you away?]  
Her hands tightened on his, and the troubled expression on her face was gone, replaced by one that was so calm in its certainty, it was almost serene. "I'm sure, Giles. What I told Riley was really only the tip of the iceberg as to why things weren't working out between him and me. You know that I've never been Solitary-Girl. I've always wanted a boyfriend—hey, I thought I needed one. I was so crazy in love with Angel—crazy' being the operative word, because it wasn't a relationship that ever could have worked, and because I was too young and stupid to realize that need and obsession and sexual attraction aren't the same as love. Angel did—finally—and left me, maybe the only completely unselfish thing he ever did for me. Not that it felt that way at the time. So Angel was gone, and Riley was there, pushing so hard, telling me we could make it work. It was flattering to have a guy want me that much, especially after being rejected by Angel and used by Parker Abrams. Riley also seemed so normal, and after the crash-and-burn relationship I had with a vampire, normal looked pretty good. Also..." she hesitated. "I'm not sure you want to hear this part..."  
"Go on, Buffy," he prompted gently.  
"Well, the sex with Riley was good. It was the first time I really enjoyed it. I think the sex—and Riley's farm-boy normality—were what my relationship with him was based on. I mean, my only other sexual experiences were with Angel, who immediately turned into Angelus and started trying to kill me and everyone I knew, and with Parker Abrams, who just used and then dumped me. So what I'm trying to say here, Giles, is that sex with any halfway- decent man who didn't try to hurt me or abandon me immediately afterwards would have seemed good."  
Giles nodded to show that he understood—and he did, better than Buffy herself. From his younger days as Ripper, he knew well how sex often served as an anodyne for one's problems. Buffy looked relieved, as if she had been afraid that he might have been disgusted by her sexual activities. Giles did not intend to mention it, but after some of the things he had done in his Ripper days, he was hardly in a position to cast any stones. "I quite understand, Buffy," he said gently. "Let's sit down while we talk, shall we?"  
They resumed their seats on the sofa. Buffy maintained her hold on his hands as she went on. Giles realized these were indeed matters she had been thinking about for some time. "I also thought that Riley and I were on the same side, you know? It helped that I had a boyfriend who understood about vampires and demons and all, and who also wanted to help me destroy them. But I finally began to realize that Riley didn't want to help me. He thought I should support him, not the other way around. I mean, he never came right out and said that—I'm not even sure he was conscious of feeling that way—but he pretty clearly thought that I was supposed to be his shield- bearer or something. Giles, I'm the Slayer. I can't constantly be worrying about whether my being stronger, faster, or whatever, is hurting a guy's ego. That's another thing. We weren't equals, and never would be—I would always have Slayer strength and reflexes, and Riley just can't accept that."  
"Quite." Giles was not surprised; he had noticed the same things himself over the last few months. "But Buffy, are you certain that you aren't just turning to me because—as you said about Riley—you need a boyfriend, and I'm here?"  
"Oh, Giles," she said softly. "I guess I deserve that. I don't have the way with words that you do, you know that. What I've been trying to say is that I've finally begun to realize that the man I need was around all along. There is a man who knows I'm the Slayer, and who isn't threatened by it. There is a man who has always been on my side, who has always put me first, instead of expecting me to take a back seat to whatever his mission' was." A tinge of bitterness entered her voice as she spoke those words, and Giles knew she was referring to Angel as much as Riley. "There is a man who has always done his best to support and take care of me, instead of expecting me to take care of him, but who can still keep up with me—hey, this guy trained me. There is a man who is smart and thoughtful, kind and decent, handsome and sexy—in a very controlled, repressed British way, of course," she could not help adding, with a mischievous smile.  
Giles grinned back. If Buffy was teasing, she wasn't making this up to spare his feelings. "Do go on, Buffy. You forgot wise' and incredibly talented.'"  
"Wow, Giles. Conceited much?" She turned serious again. "But—do you feel the same way about me? I'm not smart, like Jenny Calendar was, or sophisticated, like Olivia. You might get tired of being with me, or bored—"  
"Good lord," the Watcher said, with more feeling than Buffy had ever heard him put into those two words. "Whenever I think of words to describe my feelings for you, Buffy, the word bored' does not arise. And I could no more tire of being with you than I could tire of breathing air. You are my Slayer. Our lives are bound together, and—" He squeezed her hands gently, gazing down into her face with exquisite tenderness—"My heart has long been bound to yours."  
Then they kissed, both having had the thought at the same instant. After a long moment they drew apart from each other, breathing heavily. "Watcher and Slayer," Buffy whispered, gazing up into his eyes, her soft voice tender but fierce.  
"Watcher and Slayer," Giles echoed, speaking the words as if they were a vow.  
Buffy gave his hands one last squeeze then bounced to her feet. "You know what, Giles? We're going to find you a job. I think there's a teaching position open at my campus, you could apply for that. Or if you don't want that, there are other things. You said that when you were a kid, you wanted to be a grocer—well, there's this shop in town called The Magic Box, and they need a new proprietor. Giles, you have all kinds of talents. Maybe you should start exploring them!"  
"An excellent idea," Giles said, rising and smiling. Buffy's love of life was infectious. He would find something, and it no longer mattered what it was, so long as he and his Slayer were together. 


End file.
